Qin Fengru didn’t take the cup this time, a raging fire burning in her heart that she couldn’t extinguish.
She fixed Lin Huayan with a piercing gaze and said indignantly, “Wait until you’ve properly dated someone someday, then come talk to me about whether you can have kids. That might actually be believable.”
“…” Lin Huayan wasn’t great at verbal sparring and was momentarily speechless. But she hadn’t let Qin Fengru accompany her for those gynecological checkups, either.
“Feeling guilty? Cat got your tongue?” When it came to trading barbs, Qin Fengru was more than a match for Lin Huayan.
Smugly, she took the cup, warmed her hands on it, but didn’t drink: “Old Lin, let’s meet in the middle. I won’t force you to be my bridesmaid, but you have to catch my bouquet.”
She wasn’t some pedant who had to push Lin Huayan into marriage. She just wanted her to have a caring partner who knew her inside out, to add some joy to her lone wolf life, to make her love the world a little more—and feel a little more of the world’s love.
Love and friendship were fundamentally different.
To come into this world and not experience romance? What a waste.
No amount of care from her could replace a lover’s “love,” and Lin Huayan clearly deserved more love, deserved a wonderful partner.
So why couldn’t she find one?
“No thanks.” Lin Huayan wasn’t having it. Making her catch the bride’s bouquet under everyone’s watchful eyes? Better to cut ties cleanly right now.
“Oh ho, so even Director Lin has things she’s afraid of?”
Seeing her face turn ashen, Qin Fengru burst out laughing, doubling over until the water in her cup nearly sloshed out.
At her first wedding, she’d tried tossing the auspicious bouquet to Lin Huayan at the main table, only for her to dodge it repeatedly with waves of her hand.
Lin Huayan ignored Qin Fengru and packed up her laptop on her own: “You’d better be reasonable. Go get married if you want—this has nothing to do with me if it falls through.”
She appreciated her friend’s good intentions, of course, but matters of romance were fated by heaven.
Fated long ago.
“Already mad?”
Qin Fengru toned it down a bit and coaxed her gently, “I’m doing this for your own good, you know? Hoping some lucky guy sweeps you off your feet and brings you some wedding luck, so I don’t have to worry myself sick over you alone—and get half-killed by your attitude in the process.”
“I’m fine. No need to fret so much. Drink the water and wash the cup clean.”
“…I’m not washing it.”
“Fine, toss it then.”
“…Lin Huayan!”
“If CEO Qin keeps pushing, I won’t go to your wedding.”
“You!” Qin Fengru kept losing battles but fought on anyway, always coming out the worse for wear. “…Fine.”
She gnashed her teeth at Lin Huayan viciously—afraid even drinking would get water stuck in her molars—and grabbed Lin Huayan’s cup, heading to the balcony to dump the water and rinse both glasses.
She’d bought this pair of glass cups herself. Tossing them wouldn’t hurt Lin Huayan’s feelings.
They weren’t that expensive…
She could buy another pair anytime, but it wouldn’t mean the same.
Some things were “out with the old, in with the new,” but this friendship with Lin Huayan? She hoped it never changed.
After dawdling through washing and replacing the cups, Qin Fengru saw Lin Huayan waiting at the door, laptop bag in hand along with a trash bag.
But outrageously, Lin Huayan had taken the trash bag from the table—yet left the sushi delivery bag behind.
And it was right under the table.
“Not leaving?”
“Oof!” Qin Fengru clamped her legs and clutched her stomach. “Sudden stomachache—I gotta use the bathroom. You go ahead; I’ll head down later. All your fault and that sushi—in cahoots, clashing with my stars!”
“You…” Lin Huayan wanted to ask if she’d really eaten something bad.
“Don’t mind me—seeing you makes my stomach hurt.”
Before Lin Huayan could approach, Qin Fengru bolted to the balcony and locked herself in the bathroom.
This dorm—she’d spent nearly as much time here as the “owner” Lin Huayan herself, short of actually sleeping over in the same bed.
She’d helped buy and furnish most of the stuff. Even without Lin Huayan around, she felt right at home.
Lin Huayan had no secrets from her, at least.
So she occasionally lingered alone, and Lin Huayan never minded—or tried to shoo her out.
After fake-squatting in the bathroom for a full five minutes, Qin Fengru dramatically flushed the toilet. She pressed her ear to the door, heard no sounds outside, and emerged.
The room was empty, but so was the blue delivery bag.
The lady doth protest too much.
Lin Huayan’s move confirmed the sushi’s “shady origins.”
One move from checkmate.
This woman is too sharp.
Leaning against the bookshelf, Qin Fengru stewed in resentment when a lightbulb went off: Didn’t they have Old Man Zhang, the nosy parker with ears everywhere who loved to gossip?
…
Haifan Art School.
After afternoon classes, Lou Yixuan returned to the office and finished the leftover sushi from lunch. She even snapped a photo and posted it to Moments with the caption: [Today’s portion was extra delicious.]
But she deleted it a second later.
She’d also photographed the band-aid Lin Huayan had put on her, combining both pics with new text: [Today was extra cute—and extra delicious.]
She wondered what Lin Huayan would think when she saw the post.
Just imagining it makes me so happy.
The waist-hug, the hand-holding, the ride to work—every bit of it bliss.
Du Heming was first to like it, commenting: [So who’s “today”? [sneaky grin]]
The comment scared Lou Yixuan into nearly deleting the whole thing.
Had Du Heming developed clairvoyance?
Was she a mind-reader?
How did one remark nail her “clever” caption so precisely?!
And with their mutual friends, Lin Huayan could see Du Heming’s comment—that…
She’d meant to quietly flaunt her romance, but dug her own grave. Lou Yixuan agonized, hating to delete but stumped on how to reply.
Lu Lingxuan was second to like it—no comment, but a message followed: [How good? I want some too.]
[Lou Yixuan: Haven’t had dinner? Where are you? I’ll order delivery or a runner.]
[Lu Lingxuan: Knew my baby girl loves me most. Runner might not reach—I’m in the county with Dad on big business.]
[Lou Yixuan: Go easy on the drinks. Don’t wanna end up with a beer gut and Ya Ning-jie dumping you.]
[Lu Lingxuan: Such a sharp tongue! And here I was worried about your injury! ]
[Lu Lingxuan: Joking around like this? Must not be serious. I’m out!]
[Lou Yixuan: Heaven as my witness, I mean well.]
[Lou Yixuan: Don’t call me naggy—I get work needs schmoozing, but too much booze hurts the body. Especially for a girl like you. Ya Ning-jie backs you, sure, but she’s worried sick too. Moderation, please.]
Life wasn’t perfect; work and health often clashed.
Lou Yixuan’s nagging wasn’t meddling in their marriage.
Lu Lingxuan was her dearest friend—she wanted her healthy, successful, blissfully wed.
A few words, then drop it.
Lu Lingxuan read but didn’t reply, yet it sparked an idea for Lou Yixuan.
Dodging the question, she replied to Du Heming: [Teacher Du doesn’t care about my injury [sad face]]
Seeing the almost-crying emoji softened Du Heming: [I do! How’d it happen? Hurts? ]
Lou Yixuan nearly played cute with “hurts so bad.”
But He Huan could see her Moments too—no sabotaging Teacher Du’s romance for her own whims.
Mission to deflect accomplished.
Lou Yixuan: [Bratty kid “accidentally” hurt me, but a cool big sis stepped up, tamed the brat good—justice served [cute]]
Du Heming: [Sis rules! [thumbs up]]
It could’ve ended there, but Lou Yixuan added: [Super rules! [sneaky]]
That lingering touch tipped Du Heming off—something was fishy.
That evening, rushing back from outside, she spotted Lin Huayan downstairs at the dormitory building from afar—no greeting from that distance.
She just saw Lin Huayan with her laptop bag and a blue sack, lingering by the osmanthus tree’s trash can.
Then she rolled up the blue bag and tossed it into an inconspicuous bin.
Odd behavior.
Curiosity piqued, Du Heming took the long way via the stone path.
Passing the bin, she peeked in.
Was it what she thought?
She opened her chat with Lou Yixuan: [Lou Lou, which shop’s that yummy sushi from? Wanna try next time.]
But after typing, she stared, then deleted word by word.
Sending that? Grass startled, snake alarmed.
Whoever Lou Lou’s hard-won crush was—Xu Yaning or Teacher Lin—let her stay happy today. Du Heming would play dumb.
With that, she replied to the Moments unnecessarily: [Got your revenge? Text and emojis scream you’re thrilled today—no big deal, no need for my full medical checkup [hmph]]
She, though—smitten amid her own glow-up, yet pining unrequited—seemed on Lou Yixuan’s path, trapped in the same bind.
Afternoon script murder game with friends: couldn’t get into character, focus shot, ruined the vibe—ended up footing the bill for dinner.
Money flowed out like water, a wad gone, zero happiness bought.
Who could lend her some joy? Seemed like no one.
But one person could.
Replying to Lou Yixuan, Du Heming slumped over the desk, wilted like an eggplant.
Seeing her listless, a female colleague asked caringly, “Teacher Du, why’d you flop down? Feeling unwell?”
Muffled: “Nah, just wiped out from hanging with friends today. Sleepy.”
Some time later, her phone buzzed under her arm.
Again.
She laboriously rolled over, unlocked groggily—and upon seeing the sender, bolted upright, energized, fully revived.
